


Finding Santa

by WiseAvenger



Category: Naruto
Genre: Childhood, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Holidays, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8829586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiseAvenger/pseuds/WiseAvenger
Summary: When your adorable cousin asks for a wee favor, learn to say no. Seriously. [one-shot, fluff, holiday-themed, contains mild swearing, will make you believe in Santa… or not]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is another young Ino shenanigans kind of fic (God knows how fun these are to write, hah). I don't know if anyone remembered the character featured in here, but he was on Kakashi's division during the Fourth Shinobi World War. His first (and only, I think?) manga appearance was on Chapter 523, so, yeah, it's a super duper minor role.  
> I am uploading this holiday-themed fic a week early, because I don't know if I can manage to do so next week (work sucks). Please enjoy!

“Santa-niisan, why did your parents name you Santa?”

Fresh out of a two-week mission, Yamanaka Santa turned reluctantly to the source of the small, high-pitched voice. His narrowed gaze was met by inquisitive blue eyes, blonde hair, and pursed lips. The girl smiled at him as she rocked on her heels, arms held behind her back.

“Ah, Ino-chan,” he greeted, bowing his head slightly. “How nice to see you. Now if you’ll excuse me...”

He continued striding to his room, not exactly in the mood to humor the girl. Never mind that she was the clan head’s daughter; he was far too exhausted for conversation (something that, hopefully, Inoichi-sama would forgive). Children were naturally curious, and if he stopped to answer one question, he was certain more would follow.

But the young Yamanaka was not to be ignored so easily.

She leapt in front of him – which also undoubtedly served as a display of her newly-acquired skills – and thrust her face up to him. “Oi, Santa-niisan, I asked you a question,” she chided, pouting and pointing a sloppily painted finger at him. “It’s rude to ignore other people, y’know?”

Santa sighed and glanced down. “Um, Ino-chan, Santa-niisan is _really_ tired,” he explained as he tried to emulate his Nara teammate’s perpetual frown. “So I _really_ need to rest and take a shower right now. If you want, we can play tag tomorrow,” he offered, knowing full well how she was fond of energy-consuming games. “Or we can weave flower crowns, go over your katas, whatever you want, okay? I’ll see you at di—“

She wound her fingers around the edge of his Chunin vest and pulled. “But Santa-niisan,” wailed Ino, her bottom lip protruding even more. “I just want to know why your name is Santa! If you answer me, I’ll let you rest _forever_!”

A cold chill went down his spine, and Santa involuntarily shivered. Great, now he was feeling threatened by a girl ten years his junior…

“Santa-niisan!” she shrieked, quite oblivious to his discomfort. “Just tell me, please!” For added emphasis, Ino shook him extra hard, and Santa could feel his legs, already weakened from days of traveling, buckle under her insistence.

In the first place, he should not have fooled himself into believing that he could escape her tiny clutches.

Santa steadied himself on a wooden pillar and sighed, once again. “Okay, Ino-chan, you can stop now,” he mumbled, finally resigned to dealing with the little one. “My parents named me Santa because it’s a combination of their names: Sanosuke and Tama. Now,” he plucked her fingers off his vest as gently as he could. “Can Santa-niisan go to his room?”

Ino looked doubtful and arched her eyebrows. She opened her mouth to speak but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she shot a grateful smile his way and yelled, “Thank you!” before running off to (in Santa’s mind) bother someone else.

Heaving a breath of relief, Santa watched her tiny form disappear around the corner with a tinge of satisfaction.

* * *

Three days passed without incident, and Santa was happy to note that the young mistress appeared to have forgotten his playtime offer. He sipped his tea and hummed, relishing in the peace and quiet currently bathing the compound.

Oh, it was not that he disliked spending time with Ino – no, he enjoyed her company; it was just that she often got too loud, too insistent, and too energetic for his liking. She never seemed to run out of stamina, and though this was good for her future as a kunoichi, it was not so for the poor chumps around her.

The girl was not in the compound today. Out running with friends, if he remembered correctly. She seemed to be doing a lot of that these days, he mused, especially now that she was in the Academy.

But just as Santa was thinking about how the compound seemed _so horribly empty_ without her, the girl herself barged in, sliding his door open with such force the very walls seemed to shake. She was not alone either: he spied two pairs of eyes peering at him curiously from the doorway.

Ino, confident as ever, flipped her hair and sauntered up to him, grinning widely. “Good morning, Santa-niisan,” she greeted cheerily. “I want you to meet my friends!”

She looked over her shoulder and beckoned for the two other children to come in. They did so reluctantly: the first boy was frowning an all too familiar frown while the second boy lagged behind, a bag of chips clutched in his hands.

“Shika and Chouji,” sang Ino, pointing to each boy in turn. “Daddy said we’ll all be on the same team when we graduate! Isn’t that ni—“

“It’s Shi-ka-ma-ru,” the first boy interrupted, his frown deepening somehow. “Troublesome girl...”

Ino swiveled around and socked him on the head. “Don’t call me troublesome, Shika! That’s rude!” Then, she turned to face Santa again, a gracious smile in place. “Santa-niisan, what do you think?”

Santa, too surprised by this sudden appearance – and by three children, no less – found himself fumbling for words. “Ah, er, well…” _What is the appropriate thing to say here?_

The trio stared at him, waiting expectantly for the answer he was still searching his mind for.

“Th-This is great, Ino-chan,” he managed to say as he offered them a weak smile. “You’re lucky to know your teammates this early; it gives you a lot of time to work on your friendship and camaraderie. That’s what’s important in any team, you know: cooperation.”

If it was at all possible, her smile grew brighter as she took in his words. The boy called Chouji nodded enthusiastically and offered another shy smile.

The other boy, however, was unimpressed. He leant forward and whispered (but not really, because Santa heard it all) in Ino’s ear, “Oi, Ino, you said you’ll take us to meet the real Santa. Why doesn’t this guy look like Santa?”

“But he _is_ Santa,” she hissed back, still in a not-so-quiet voice. “His name _is_ Santa, Shika!”

“Hmph, I don’t know about that,” muttered Shika (or Shikamaru, as it turned out) as he folded his hands behind his head. “But he doesn’t look like the Santa _I_ know.”

Ino huffed, clenching her fists tightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Shika!” she insisted as she gave him an excellent Yamanaka-patented glare. “He really _is_ Santa!”

Shikamaru tilted his head and raked his eyes over the flustered Chunin once more. After a few moments, he shrugged, sighing pointedly at the blonde girl. “I don’t see a white beard anywhere, Ino; therefore, he’s _not_ Santa.” He pointed at the other boy with his thumb. “Chouji here has a better chance of being Santa than this guy.”

Nervous at the mention of his name, Chouji began to sweat as the two children, who were no longer mindful of keeping their conversation in (relatively loud) whispers, continued to bicker. In agitation, he split his bag of chips open and began to stuff his mouth with thinly sliced, salted potatoes, his eyes bugging out slightly.

Santa felt like asking for a chip (or two, or ten), anything to quell the puzzlement rising up in him. He had no idea what the children’s conversation was about, and it severely bothered him because they were talking about _him_ but, at the same time, _not him_. It was all very confusing, and he would have asked Ino about it, if she wasn’t so engrossed in verbally sparring with Shikamaru.

The argument, thankfully, ended after a few minutes with both children panting for breath. Glares were still exchanged, however, and Santa felt strangely proud when the boy looked away first. Ino herself seemed to revel in this little victory as her face glowed triumphantly while Shikamaru pouted in the corner. Chouji, in the meantime, was already halfway through a second bag of chips, the first bag lying somewhere on the floor.

Santa cringed at the prospect of finding ants in his room later. Bugs were bad, but ants were a different breed of monster altogether. He had the frantic idea of ushering the children outside with promises of sweets and toys to search for the wayward bag, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t work out too well for him. Arguments or no, Ino was the kind of kid who stuck with her friends through and through; she would probably berate him for his “uncouth behavior.”

( _Wherever did she learn that?_ )

Instead, Santa put on his best smile and turned to the girl. “So, Ino-chan, do you want something else from me?” he asked, adding a little lilt to his voice to mask his true intentions. “Are you here to talk?”

She shook her fair head. “No, niisan, I just wanted you to meet my friends.” She turned to the two boys and ushered them out of the room. When they were a safe distance away, she ran back to his side and whispered, “Your name really _is_ Santa, isn’t it?”

He blinked at her in confusion, still not getting the point of all these questions and observations. “Yes, Ino-chan,” he answered slowly. “That is my name as listed in the clan registry.” He paused, thinking. “May I know why you’re asking?”

Now it was her turn to blink rapidly. “Oh,” she breathed, but soon regained her cheery composure. “It’s nothing!” She chuckled and waved at him. “Bye, Santa-niisan! Shika and Chouji and I will play in the garden for a bit!”

Ino slid the door shut, and the last Santa heard of the children was a particularly loud groan followed by an equally loud smack and, lastly, a small sputter of surprise.

* * *

It was November, and a full six weeks passed after the second encounter before Santa found Ino staring up at him mischievously again. She had intercepted him just as he entered the clan’s shared garden, and he, all too aware of the presence of several elders, had no choice but to look her in the eye and converse.

“Good afternoon,” she sang out, blue eyes twinkling. “The bush clover’s coming up nice this year, don’t you think?”

“Mmhm,” he mused, slightly bewildered that she had not broached whatever topic she had in mind head on. It was quite unusual for her to use diversions, but she was, after all, the daughter of Inoichi-sama, who was considered something of a god among interrogators…

And although he had absolutely nothing to hide, Santa felt a strange, prickling sensation run along his arms at this realization. He swallowed anxiously.

“The days are getting cooler too,” continued Ino, twirling a lock of her hair absentmindedly on one (still) sloppily painted finger. “And autumn is really nice with all the colors, no?”

“Yes, Ino-chan.” _Best to agree with her_ , he thought. _Be on her good graces. Maybe she’ll let me go with a little light chatter and be done with it._

“What are you planning to do for December, Santa-niisan?” She looked up at him expectantly as she rocked on her heels. “Anything… special?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled by this disjointed line of questioning, but as he could feel the gaze of an especially old clansman boring into his back, he resigned himself to humoring the young mistress. “Oh, I think my team and I will be busy doing D-Ranks. It gets really cold up north this time of year, and civilians often have a hard time bringing supplies into their villages,” he explained, noting with some disappointment that she was only half-listening and was seemingly preoccupied with a large butterfly resting on a lily pad. Still, he pushed forward. “That’s where we shinobi come in. Their leaders hire us for transport of goods, money, even people. So, yeah, that’s what I’ll be doing, I think.”

When he finished, Ino turned to him with a slightly bored expression on her face, but this was quickly replaced by a mask of interest. “Ooh, how exciting!” she cooed, a mega-watt smile lighting up her features. “But because Santa-niisan is strong and intelligent, he’ll be able to finish those missions quickly, right?”

Now Santa really felt like frowning. Flattery, huh? That was not a tactic Ino employed on a regular basis. If anything, he’d only heard of one such incident (those involving Inoichi-sama hardly counted): when she managed to manipulate a clansman into taking the blame for breaking a treasured clan heirloom. The poor chump had to endure weeks of passive-aggressive glares and snide remarks, all because he fell under the little girl’s spell after she showered him with praises and thanks.

Not that this realization could help him now. The girl had a determined look about her, and he knew for a fact that he was now doomed.

“So I was thinking,” mused Ino (and he recognized this as the beginning of the end). “My class is going to have a party next month, and I want Santa-niisan to be there.” She clasped her hands in front of her and peered up at him from underneath thick eyelashes. “Please!”

 _Ah, there it was_. “Oh, but why would you want me there? I’m sure you can take Inoichi-sama with you. He’ll be _very_ happy to go.”

She wrinkled her nose at this. “But I don’t want Daddy there! I’m asking you, aren’t I?” And she seemed to be on the verge of losing her temper, but she stopped herself short before any shouting could occur. “Please, it’s just a _wee_ favor,” she begged, pouting ever so slightly. “This is _really important_ to me!”

Santa could practically hear the last nail on his coffin being hammered down. “What do you need me to do, Ino-chan?” he asked, quite resigned to do her bidding. “Do you need me to bring a dish or..?”

“Just dress up in this special costume I drew for you,” she spoke brightly, handing over a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

He received it, rather reluctantly, and stared at the drawing of a man in a ridiculous red and white costume comprised of some sort of soft triangular hat, matching pajamas, and fur-trimmed boots. The man himself looked rather old, what with his bushy beard and round glasses. A heavy-looking sack was placed on his side, and it appeared to be overflowing with boxes (or, at least, that’s what Santa assumed the weird square things were).

“You want me to… dress up in this?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at the drawing (not at the girl, never at the girl – that gets you six months of snide remarks and haughty sniffs). “All of this… for your party?”

“Yes,” nodded Ino, happy that her older cousin understood her request very well. “That’s it!”

“And I won’t have to do anything else?” he inquired, still staring at the paper.

“Oh, just act jolly and you’ll be fine,” she assured him. She gave him a firm pat on the hand, noting how thankful she was for his presence. Then she walked off and disappeared inside the main house.

Santa watched her leave uneasily. Something told him (and rightly so) that it wasn’t going to be as simple as that.

* * *

On the day of Ino’s class’s party, Santa could not help but feel apprehensive. He had been a fully-fledged shinobi for about three years now, and never had he found himself in such a strange situation – entering a roomful of kids in costume. He wondered if this was how the guy who dressed up as the local izakaya’s mascot (a rather funny looking anthropomorphic bottle of _sake_ ) felt like every night.

The soft pitter-patter of feet roused him from his thoughts, and he turned to find Chouji staring at him from the doorway.

“Hello,” Santa voiced, smiling slightly. As he came to know later, the boy was from the noble Akimichi clan, and since the Yamanakas enjoyed a friendly relationship with them, he thought it best to make the child feel at ease. “How is the party coming along?”

“Fine,” mumbled Chouji, a bag of chips clasped tightly in one hand. “Ino asked me to check up on you..?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” he answered, though he felt anything but. “Tell her not to worry.”

Chouji nodded, but instead of leaving to find his blonde, hyperactive cousin, the boy lingered in the doorway, looking quite unsure of himself. He shyly glanced up at Santa every few seconds, and the Yamanaka came to understand why. He beckoned for the boy to come inside the abandoned classroom.

Santa held out his arm to Chouji, who touched the red velvet admiringly. “Ino-chan had it made for this party,” he informed the boy. “I still don’t know why I’m here, but if Ino-chan says it’s important to her…”

He trailed off after seeing alarm flash across the boy’s face. Chouji’s mouth hung agape, and Santa felt his heart beat doubly fast. _What is happening?_

But the boy soon regained his composure and, muttering something about needing to find Shikamaru, he dashed out of the room and down the hallway.

Santa watched him leave glumly. The costume began to itch, and he had a mind to take it off and just sneak back to the compound, the little girl’s temper be damned.

But, then again, he didn’t think he could take it if Inoichi-sama regarded him with disappointment.

“Such a simple task,” he could imagine the clan leader booming. “And you couldn’t even finish it?! You are a disgrace to this clan, Yamanaka Santa, and I am loathe to call you my nephew!”

He cringed and stayed where he was.

* * *

Santa stared back at the gaggle of bug-eyed kids before him. His eyebrow twitched and, for what was probably the 18th time that afternoon, he asked himself why he let himself be dragged into the young mistress’s plan.

(Which he still knew next to nothing about, come to think of it.)

Her mood, on the other hand, as she stood beside him, was a stark contrast. She was positively glowing with pride and joy, her wide grin threatening to split her smug face in half (not that Santa would ever admit to thinking that – that earned you about a year of exile from the shared garden).

Umino Iruka, the class’s teacher, was desperately trying to enforce some sort of discipline among the group but to no avail. A skittish blond, in particular, was yelling up a storm, thrusting his whiskered face up Santa’s and demanding to know who he _really_ was. Santa didn’t get to respond, however, because the blond was pushed off by his cousin, who proceeded to berate him on his “uncouth behavior.”

Another wild-looking boy (who Santa deduced, with some distaste, was an Inuzuka child) attempted to do the same, only to receive a kick to the stomach from Ino, who huffed and puffed with growing irritation.

“Geesh, calm down,” she admonished, pouting and wagging a neatly painted finger at her unruly classmates. “You’ll all get your turn, so CAN EVERYONE JUST LISTEN TO ME?!”

The force of her yell rattled the windows, and everyone stopped what they were doing to look at the blonde girl. She preened with satisfaction as the room fell silent.

“Now,” she began sweetly. “Please line up properly, then you can all get your picture taken with Santa!” She turned to Iruka, who was gazing at her in wonder. “Sensei?”

That jolted him back to his senses. Iruka cleared his throat. “Okay, children, you heard what Ino said. Form a line, so we can get started. Naruto, Kiba, I’m putting you two knuckleheads at the end for what you did earlier. Nuh-uh, no buts! Stand at the end, Uzumaki! Don’t argue with me!”

A mini-argument between student and teacher commenced, but Santa paid them no mind. He was still processing what he had just heard. Picture-taking… with him… in this ridiculous costume? He had no idea what was happening, and he felt truly lost – not to mention embarrassed. The Yamanakas do take pride in their appearance – and he was _very proud_ of his auburn hair – but if his face and head were covered up, what was the point of pictures?

He slouched as the first student approached, but a pointed look from Ino made him straighten up. He stared blearily at the camera and did not even try smiling; you can’t even see it from the copious amount of beard his cousin insisted he wear.

The flash burned his eyes, and he sighed, making sure to keep count of the number of students left before picture-taking was over. It provided little relief, but at least he knew time was passing.

It was curious, however, that Shikamaru and Chouji were not lining up. Instead, Santa saw that they were both lounging in chairs at the back of the room, observing the scene with mild amusement. They occasionally whispered but otherwise made no move to join the lively (understatement, really) line. Ino approached them and, by the way she carried herself, appeared quite intent on berating them for their disinterest.

A few choice words from Shikamaru, however, stopped her short, and Santa could see her face flushing scarlet. She opened her mouth to retort but, by the smirk on the boy’s face, found that she had nothing witty to say to him for once. Utterly defeated, she trudged back to the line and took out her embarrassment and irritation at her less cheeky classmates, who proceeded to cower before her. ( _Atta girl_ , Santa couldn’t help thinking.)

Shikamaru and Chouji exchanged wide grins and leaned back on their seats, traces of contentment on their faces.

* * *

It seemed like six hours had passed before it was all over, but in reality only an hour and a half had passed between him entering the classroom (and being mobbed by drooling children), standing for pictures (and having the irises burned off his eye balls), giving out candy (to, again, drooling children), and leaving the room to (finally) take off the costume.

Now free of the velvet and fake hair, he allowed himself to relax. Santa still had little to no clue about what just happened, but aside from exhaustion (and a few gross encounters with unkempt kiddies), there was really no harm done… was there?

He sighed and drank his tea, now lukewarm and a tad bitter. He winced. Even his drink was not agreeing with him today.

There was a knock on the door, and Santa stared at it wearily, fervently praying it was not the whiskered blond who stood behind it. “Come in.”

Shikamaru and Chouji poked their heads in, exchanging knowing glances before finally setting foot inside the room. The two boys sauntered up to him, an aura of confidence and pride about them – like they knew something he did not. It reminded Santa, strangely enough, of his cousin.

“Yes?” asked Santa, feeling just a little nervous at their gazes. “Anything I can help you with? Would you like a,” here, he sighed audibly, “picture?”

Shikamaru smirked and pointed at him accusingly. “We know _your_ secret.”

Santa looked at him in puzzlement, quite unsure how to proceed. “Excuse me? I don’t think—“

“You’re not really Santa,” the boy continued as a gleam of success shone in his usually dull, brown eyes. “You’re just some older cousin Ino got to dress up as Santa, but you’re not _really_ Santa, are you?”

Santa’s mind whirled. “Excuse me?” he repeated in an exasperated tone. “My name _is_ Santa,” he retorted, but the boys were not buying it.

“How convenient that your name also happened to be _Santa_ ,” Shikamaru muttered, rolling his eyes. “As if a shinobi would ever name their kid _Santa_ … Come on. Give it up. You can stop pretending to be Santa now.”

Santa had a mind to smack him on the head for his insolence; he was a Chunin after all, and the kid – Nara heir or whatever – was still just an Academy student.

“That’s right,” Chouji chimed in, as he ripped a bag of chips open. “Lying to yourself isn’t so good, mister.”

“But I’m not pretending,” insisted Santa, feeling a little annoyed. “Because I really _am_ Santa!”

Shikamaru waved at him dismissively. “Bah, whatever, you’re troublesome.” He started to walk to the door, Chouji following closely behind him. At the threshold, he turned to look at a bewildered Santa. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep this one a secret,” he whispered, smiling lopsidedly. “No one needs to know Ino brought a fake Santa to our party. Well, bye now, mister.”

Santa stared after them in despair. Was he really now in the habit of losing arguments to seven year old kids?!

* * *

Two weeks later, while at a routine supply mission in a remote village in Snow Country, an all-too-familiar color scheme caught Santa’s eye. He stopped abruptly, thoughts of the prospect of warm meals at the inn forgotten, and stared at the shop poster.

A red-cheeked, smiling old chap, garbed in garish red and white, stared right back at him. The man’s blue eyes shone with delight and “Christmas spirit” (whatever the heck Christmas was – Santa could care less). A large bag, filled to the brim with shiny, wrapped presents, was slung over one shoulder, while his other hand was raised in a cheery wave. A group of children surrounded him, but they appeared to be well-behaved and not of the drooling variety the majority of his cousin’s classmates seemed to belong to.

His teammate, Masaki, a rather hot-tempered member of the Hyuga clan, nudged him from behind, a cross expression on her face.

“Get moving, Yamanaka,” she growled, one eyebrow twitching. “If we’re not back at the inn by six in the afternoon, I swear to Kami I’ll…” Noticing with some irritation that the auburn-haired shinobi was barely listening to her, she followed his gaze and frowned. “Are you a child, or are you a man, Yamanaka? Quit staring at that Nick fellow and let’s get on our way! My ass is freezing, you jerk!”

Unmindful of the anger radiating off Masaki in waves, Santa tilted his head at the image and asked, “What did you say?”

“I said, I’m cold, and if we don’t get out of this goddamned weather, I’ll—“

“No, no, the other thing,” he turned to her, a glassy look about his face, “This guy’s name. What was it?”

Masaki looked weirded out by the question for a moment, but her sour mood quickly returned. “St. Nick,” she grumbled as she shifted the packages on her arms.

“Huh,” was Santa’s sole reply.

“Kind of like Hotei-osho, Yamanaka-san,” their other teammate, a cheery fellow from some inconsequential family, piped up. “This St. Nick guy gives out gifts to good children on Christmas Eve, which just so happens to be tonight.”

“Hm.” That would explain the candies and the children, but not why Santa had to be little Ino’s party dummy. He was about to ask for more information when Masaki filled in the rest for him.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as an uncharacteristic glow of satisfaction swirled around her. “I got it! Are you staring at this picture because,” she shot him a sly smile, “you have the same name as him?”

Santa raised his eyebrows and frowned at her. “What? But you just said his name is St. Nick...”

“Yeah,” she answered, looking at him like he was the dumbest child in existence. “But he’s also called _Santa Claus_ , or did you not know that? Jeez, I thought you knew! Didn’t your parents name you after this guy?”

“Uh, no,” he mumbled, as a particularly large brick of realization bounced on his head. “I didn’t know… that.”

“Well, now you do.” Masaki sniffed at him haughtily. “So can we _please_ get going? I swear my nose’ll fall off any second from now…”

Santa didn’t hear her, nor did he particularly care when his two teammates abandoned his side to seek the village inn’s warmth. The only thing that mattered was the fat man smiling back at him.

After a few minutes of peeved contemplation, Santa scowled at the picture and walked towards the inn.

Who cares about some old guy? At the end of the day, he was still the better Santa.

**Author's Note:**

> Santa could be Fu's brother, no? At least, I could pretend he's Fu's brother... Anyway, don't forget to drop me a line and tell me what you think. Happy days to you, reader!


End file.
